oh Andy, do you remember
those days,
in the Lower East Side,
1975
how every morning
in a flowered patterned skirt
and rainbow strappy sandals
i would arrive
at the letterbox
avoiding a pool of piss, spunk, blood
escaping used condoms and
discarded syringes for a day’s work
at the vinyl shop?
upstairs, asleep, creatures of the night
pale and thin dreaming of the next fix
whilst across the road
vendors of flesh took their coffee
or was it firewater?
preparing to withdraw
until the shadows returned
for one more night shift
as we danced on the trendy bars
drinking expensive red wine
laughing and eating cake
like marie antoinette
ignoring the real issues
ours and theirs
but it was bloody good fun, wasn’t it, Andy?
